Priming
by Canadino
Summary: Where exposure to a stimulus influences a response to a later stimulus. Where Murasakibara's innocent mention of Akashi leads to Himuro's infatuation. Akashi/Himuro


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

[=]

It was all Atsushi's fault.

It was against his nature to be interested in someone while watching them on the court; of course one would look stunning and amazing there. The basketball court was for players what the main stage was for actors. Everything was frills, really, on the court – you could be nimble on your feet and superb at tactic plays, but off the court you could be a complete idiot. Himuro did not trust the personas he saw during games, admiring the playing style and personality, but he could not have given a damn about someone off the court enough to put effort into befriending them. Not to say he hated others, but he would not let their infamy in basketball cloud how he interacted with them on the street.

So really, if Murasakibara had not tottered up to him after practice one afternoon during the very beginnings of the year and mumbled something about how the ring around his neck looked especially tasty and what was the story behind it, and if he hadn't foolishly confessed his life story to their famous freshman recruit, Murasakibara probably would not have told him – in exchange – about his old captain from Teiko and how amazing he was, probably more amazing than anything he'd ever eaten. From Murasakibara, that was saying something. Sure, he would have seen Akashi anyway on the high school basketball stage, but he would only have felt respect, instead of the curiosity his underclassman piped in him. Murasakibara spent many words between munches speaking about Akashi, who still retained contact with him despite their varied directions, and it wasn't long before Himuro was looking over his shoulder at a text from the infamous leader of the Generation of Miracles and wondering what sort of guy he was.

"If you'd like," Murasakibara crunched, crumbs dropping from his mouth, "I can take you along the next time I see Aka-_chin_."

Practicality said that his only intention was to see what kind of enemy they could possibly face on the court, but to be honest, Himuro was excited to see what kind of guy could control Murasakibara and command a troop of talented middle schoolers. They spent the hour before the meeting time buying snacks, though Murasakibara insisted they were for Akashi. It struck Himuro strangely of an offering to an idol. "He likes miso soup flavored snacks," Murasakibara said helpfully, scooping up an armful of curry-flavored snack sticks. Himuro figured it wouldn't hurt and picked up a bag of miso soup sticks, briefly surprised such a thing existed.

Himuro was busy cleaning the crumbs off Murasakibara's shirt to notice Akashi appearing and only realized when Murasakibara paused in his eating to greet him. Although he had done his research and remembered how Murasakibara had described him as, Akashi was still much different in flesh and bone than anything he could have constructed beforehand. Akashi spared him only a glance and a flash of his golden eye before he had turned back to Murasakibara, disinterested. "Is this the Muro-_chin_ Atsushi's always talking about? Charmed."

The disregard was slapping, the clear distinction between who interested Akashi and who didn't, but Himuro bit back a thorny comment and handed the miso soup snacks over. "Yes. Himuro Tatsuya, pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot of good things about you."

Akashi's eyes landed on the snacks first; logically, as they were at eye level and a sudden, perceived threat, though he did not tense up as the sudden movement might have made others. He stared at the plastic packaging for a long while at Murasakibara snacked away noisily, before finally meeting Himuro's eyes for the first time. The intensity of his eyes almost made Himuro shrink back, but he'd already trained himself on the streets of America.

A slow smile crept its way across Akashi's face, though his eyes showed no signs of amusement. Himuro only detected calm calculation and analysis still, trying to look right into his soul and figure out how he ticked. "You're quite something," Akashi allowed, before taking the snacks, and right in that split second that he turned back to speak to Murasakibara and their hands touched as the snack was given, Himuro had fallen suddenly and deeply in love with Akashi.

Alex said back in America, when he was sitting in her kitchen as her mother bustled upstairs and left her daughter to babysit whatever boy she seemed to pick up, that Himuro had something of a reverse hero complex. Himuro had asked for another cookie and an explanation. Kagami was due around twelve-thirty so Alex could take them to the local basketball court to teach them more basketball, but of course the boy was late. "It's like this," she said, handing him another cookie from the cooling rack. "You're naturally attracted to people who are strong. Like how you became friends with Kagami. You're just drawn to people who have a powerful aura. Not to say that you're weak or anything, of course!" She ruffled his hair affectionately. If it was something Alex never seemed to lose, it was her encouraging smirk and the tendency to adjust her bra in public. "You can hold your own, but you just can't help but love people who have presence, in other words."

Kagami had come over before Himuro could really dwell on her words, but he figured over the next few years, Alex was right. The people he tended to gravitate toward were often people with power in their own right; he befriended student council members, good basketball players, first place winners in anything, and he decided he did have a hero complex when he struggled through his middle school crush on Kagami, which spiraled awfully until they were no longer on speaking terms and when he decided he'd no longer bother romantically with anyone younger.

Murasakibara called him later that night. "Aka-_chin_ told me you're in love with him," he said bluntly, without the mercy of having food in his mouth, so there was no excuse for Himuro to have misheard. He sputtered on his end of the line. "Aka-_chin_ is always right, so I was surprised. This is unexpected, Muro-_chin_."

"I just…" Akashi's eyes were indeed amazing if he could have picked up such a brief, muted emotion while spending most of the meeting talking with Murasakibara while Himuro felt like a third wheel and a bit of a heel for tagging along. Somehow this was embarrassing coming from someone he would have never expected to get involved. He hadn't been planning on doing anything about this infatuation, as he'd tried to do that with Kagami and that ended disastrously. "It's not…how…"

"He'd like to see you again," Murasakibara mumbled around something in his mouth, bored again as if he were discussing homework. "Next week. At his house." He gave Himuro the address.

"Will you be coming with me?" Himuro asked.

"No," Murasakibara said, before making a faint offended sound. "Aka-_chin_ doesn't want me to…don't have too much fun okay…"

He didn't have to go. He wasn't obligated to go at all. He did not have Akashi's contact and did not ever have to see him again on a casual basis if he didn't want to. Still, somehow, he left the house on Saturday anyway and took the train, feeling a little stupid all the while. His mother insisted he bring a gift and pressed a jar of her homemade jam while insisting on etiquette. He remembered why he often did not tell her when he was going to Kagami's house.

The station was on an outdoor platform, which offered a view of trees and quaint little houses dotted along the landscape. Himuro did not travel to Kyoto often, preferring the fast pace of Tokyo than old-fashioned Kyoto. The passing thought of visiting a shrine flitted through his mind but he figured he shouldn't be late for Akashi. According to Murasakibara, Akashi hated lateness, and while he was older and had the choice to come, politeness urged him on, focused on the address (his mother taught him something after all).

The Akashi family resided in a traditional house, with a white wall around the residence, the nameplate hanging neatly next to the door. Himuro vaguely thought of _yakuza_ as he stared up at the house and was slightly surprised when Akashi found him at the door dressed quite casually than the white suit Himuro was starting to envision. There were no suspicious looking lackeys milling about as Akashi led them up the walk to the house.

The house was just as big as it looked from the outside, with rooms of tatami and Himuro could not know how anyone could not get lost. Akashi led them around and after several turns and shortcuts, Himuro had walked himself into a daze and blinked when he found himself in Akashi's room. The redhead was looking at him blankly, a hint of danger in his eyes.

"Oh," Himuro said, realizing he was still clutching his mother's jam to his chest. "This is for your parents." It now seemed ridiculous. Who visited a friend's house with gifts anymore? The words sounded lame in the air. He wouldn't have been surprised if Akashi winced, but the boy did no such thing.

"What is it?"

"Jam. My mom made it."

"Just put it down somewhere." Himuro entertained the notion that Akashi lived alone in such a huge house. The boy had become interested in something else in the room already. The sound of glass on the bedside table did not make him turn back to Himuro. He was struck again by the ridiculousness of it all. He did not have anything of mutual interest to talk to Akashi about, besides basketball and Murasakibara, and Akashi did not seem interested in either topic at the moment. His hand was lazily circling a pair of scissors on his desk as he looked at something else. Himuro felt a little frustrated.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Akashi, who had been seated innocently at his desk, went from zero to mach speed as the questioning tone left Himuro's lips, his hands closed around the pair of scissors. Himuro was allowed only a thought of _he's going to kill me_ before Akashi knocked him down on the bed with more force than he expected from someone considerably shorter than him. Akashi hovered over him, a sly grin on his face as his eyes flashed.

"You like me, don't you, Tatsuya," he said, making Himuro flush from the sudden intimacy. "You know, I always know when people like me. And I'm always right too. Tell me, though, why did you choose me?"

"I…" Such rapid expectancy to his interrogation was making Himuro flustered. Akashi was sitting straddled on his chest, a challenging look on his face. "I…you…" A feeling of anger hissed in him, almost making him say _I'm your upperclassman, don't be so disrespectful_ but Akashi's scissors flashed forward and he flinched; the blades missed his eye and merely brushed aside the bangs he kept over his left eye.

"I was wondering what was behind that fringe," Akashi hummed, sounding a bit disappointed. "You look at me with such intense eyes," he continued, looking thoughtfully at the determined look Himuro was giving him. "Do you think you can win against me?"

The scissors retreated, and Himuro hissed at the feeling of the cold metal against his skin. "I won't hurt you," Akashi purred, a rough laugh in his voice. "I'm just helping you out." With a flick of the wrist, he brought the scissors down right down the black shirt Himuro was wearing, cutting it down the middle.

"What are you doing…!"

"Relax," Akashi commanded, a devilish smirk as he lowered his face down next to Himuro's ear. "You want it, don't you? How embarrassing…" His breath was hot against Himuro's ear, right at a sensitive point and he couldn't help but gasp softly. The cold feel of scissors skittered against his chest, the threat of sharpness heightening his senses. "Undone by an first year…isn't it shameful?"

"Stop," Himuro managed, before Akashi kissed that sensitive spot on his neck and ran his scissors over a nipple, which perked at the metal feel. Akashi's laugh reverberated on his skin as he bit his lips together to stop a moan and arched his back as the boy slid a warm hand down his stomach.

"You like it, don't you?" Akashi's scissors worked at his belt. "The mild, unsuspecting types usually like this sort of thing. You want to be tied up and done in rough, right?" The mocking tone, laced with uncaring accuracy, bit at Himuro's pride. "Because you like feeling helpless, like you've always felt when faced with strength…am I right? Of course I am…" Akashi's tongue flitted and licked a long, wet trail down Himuro's neck.

"No," Himuro's voice wavered, but Akashi's hand had already felt his erection through his pants and was gently kneading at it. The belt around his waist had been smoothly pulled through, now cut beyond repair, and Akashi had expertly looped it around his wrists. The boy was hovering over his face, and Himuro thought he would be kissed, but the redhead only flashed a sinister grin.

"Don't worry." The voice was low in Akashi's throat, a rough primal growl. "I'll treat you well."

_Don't have too much fun_, Murasakibara said. It really was all his fault, Himuro thought helplessly as Akashi licked is fingers and reached into him, making him cry out. The jar of jam had been opened and carelessly spread and licked up. He would not know enough about Akashi to be attracted, if it wasn't for Murasakibara. Akashi kissed his beauty mark. Yes, it was all Atsushi's fault, completely.

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Note: I regret nothing and this is singularly the greatest pairing that ever existed in the Kurobas fandom, don't even try to fight me about it.


End file.
